NEW - This Week's Featured Poetry (x4)

DISTURBED REMINDED

Dr. Roger G. Singer

hidden within

a standing place

quiet crouches

in the shallowness

of shadows

where the

unnoticed scream

crosses the line

without reserve

as they desire

to be free

of sorrow

ABOUT ROGER: Dr. Robert Singer is a Poet Laureate Emeritus of Connecticut, and past president of the Connecticut Shoreline Poetry Chapter, in association with the Connecticut Poetry Society. He has had over 1,600 poems published on the internet, magazines and in books and is a 2017 Pushcart Prize Award Nominee.

A FADING LIGHT IS STILL A LIGHT

By Megan Diedericks

you’re a light –

it won’t be any better

if you’re snuffed out:

it would just be

d a r k.

power outage, melted wax,

ecliptic, grave in the backyard,

apocalyptic- kind of dark.

please take your trigger-finger

away from the light switch and

s t a y.

you don’t have to glitter,

shine like the sun in a cloudless

sapphire sky –

just be the luminescence

in a hall of shadows.

as long as there’s a flicker,

it’s still

e n o u g h.

ABOUT THE POEM: "This is a more hopeful piece, a reminder that I often need myself – that your light, or whatever metaphor you’d like to use to describe you, your life – is still enough and worthy."

ABOUT MEGAN: Megan writes poetry and fiction; everything from meek to macabre can be found in between the lines. Her debut poetry collection is titled: 'the darkest of times, the darkest of thoughts'. Among others, her poetry has been published by: Querencia Press, Last Leaves Magazine and Sublimation.

W: www.bit.ly/megandiedericks

Instagram: @meganreflects



SOMETHING’S MISSING FROM MY PLATE

By Rita McDermott

A roof over my head

home cooked meals on the table

clean and often handmade clothes

on my frame

Installation of a worthy set of values

right versus wrong

concrete, even rigid rules to live by

a hard work ethic to get through life

respect for elders and others, and their property

Parents that gifted me these things

to help me along the path of life

Yet, I always felt something was missing

from my plate

Three simple words

“I love you”

Something I’ve always hungered to hear

wishing it had been added to the food on my plate.

ABOUT THE POEM: "I grew up in a household where I barely remember it ever being actually said."



WINGS AND WEIGHTS

By Christina Luca

Keep moving forward,

But not too fast or too slow;

For if I misstep, my demons might show.

They tear at my insides,

Can't be contained by my skin,

Trying to escape the trap

That resides within.

When I’m up, I am up —

And it's such a great high

I’m content with the fact

That one day, I’ll die.

And if death finds me soon,

That will be okay;

Because when I’m down, I’m down —

I barely get through the day.

Constantly trapped adjacent to happy,

Never quite through the door,

Always rooted and slowly sinking,

Or can't get my feet back on the floor.

Mania grabs my wrist, spins me dizzy toward the sky,

And whispers in my ear:

“If you jump, you just might fly.”

I believe her.

She makes me think I can outrun time itself,

A captain sailing a ship

Of many unknown parts —

An adventure that ends

As abruptly as it starts.

Now I’m in a crater,

Water slowly rising;

Depression pushes me under —

A sinister baptizing.

The two fracture my mind;

I forget who I am.

I stare into the water’s reflection,

Give myself an exam.

What’s left of me are broken pieces

Of who I used to be,

Losing the will to fight.

This disease might end me.

Mania tells me to run faster, says:

“The world is yours to bend.”

But depression reminds me:

“All good things must end.”

Mania builds castles

With great speed and trembling hands--

They collapse overnight

Into barren, desolate lands.

Depression plants weeds,

Entangling me, choking out the light;

I stumble in the darkness —

A prisoner of the night.

Mania leaves scars — blistered and raw;

Depression leaves nothing — no feeling at all.

They don’t trade places politely —

They fight over me,

Battling inside, never agreeing,

Both wanting control;

I’ll never be free.

I’m stretched in the middle,

A rope pulled too tight:

One drowns me in darkness,

One blinds me with light.

Mania gives me wings

To fly into the sun.

The burns blister and scar —

The damage can’t be undone.

Together they unravel me,

Wearing me down to my bones.

I look at my reflection

And see someone I don’t know —

A face once etched with precision

Now falling into decay.

I must trudge through this, not around it;

There is no other way.

Building myself up

Just to tear myself down for no reason.

Will someone learn to love me,

Even in my harshest seasons?

This isn’t living —

I’m barely treading water,

Yearning for my past self;

For years I’ve sought her.

Barely treading water,

Hoping to fly again.

Depression tied bricks to my ankles and told me:

“Learn to swim.”

As I sink to the bottom,

Disappear into the night,

Know I didn’t go

Without a desperate fight.

Battered, bruised, and bleeding,

I dragged myself this far.

Now I find peace

Amongst the depths.

Because once I reach the bottom,

I will rise again amongst the stars.